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52
The Tempest, III. ii

bottle! this can sack and drinking do—A mur-
rain on your monster, and the devil take your
fingers! 92

Cal. Ha, ha, ha!

Ste. Now, forward with your tale.—Prithee
stand further off.

Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time 96
I'll beat him too.

Ste. Stand farther.—Come, proceed.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him
I' the afternoon to sleep: there thou may'st brain him,
Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log 100
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
First to possess his books; for without them
He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not 104
One spirit to command: they all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his books;
He has brave utensils,—for so he calls them,—
Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal:
And that most deeply to consider is 109
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she; 112
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great'st does least.

Ste. Is it so brave a lass?

Cal. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,
And bring thee forth brave brood. 116

Ste. Monster, I will kill this man: his daugh-
ter and I will be king and queen,—save our
graces! and Trinculo and thyself shall be vice-
roys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo? 120


102 wezand: windpipe
104 sot: fool